April Fools Day Anniversary

Happy belated April Fools Day.

April first is always a very significant day for me. This year it marked the 6th year since my retirement from The Warranty Group. It also marked 44 years since I started work in Chicago with Pat Ryan & Associates, which 34 years later became The Warranty Group.

That's right, I started with the company on April 1, 1972 and retired on April 1, 2010 after a spectacular 38 year career. My title on joining the company was Finance and Insurance Trainer. My final title at retirement was Senior Vice President Worldwide Performance Improvement. During those 38 years, I had watched my company grow from 100+ employees with offices throughout the United Stated to 2,200 employees with offices through the world.

I had also watched Pat Ryan & Associates' parent company, Ryan Insurance Group, merge with Combined Insurance Corporation in 1982 and then through a series of mergers and acquisitions become Aon Corporation, the largest commercial brokerage in the world (yes, bigger than Marsh McClennan) with, at one time, 50,000 employee worldwide.

I even wrote a book, the Training Effectiveness Handbook, which was published by McGraw Hill in 1995. But I will save that story for a future article.

So I thought it would be fun to recap how I went from being a High School Graduate without a clue about what do with my life to a published performance improvement expert and a senior officer in very dynamic insurance company.  The road to Chicago and Pat Ryan & Associates took 11 years and contains a bunch of interesting twists and turns. In fact, one could say that my career and perhaps my life revolve around a principle that says "miss a bus, change your life."

It all starts in 1961 when I barely graduated high school. Not having the grades to get in to college I pondered what to do. One option was to go south to Florida on a 65 foot motor yacht as first mate, which I wisely rejected. Note: Had I taken this road, I suspect I would not be living on a 63 foot Outer Reef. The other option, suggested by my dad, was to go to technical school for two years and learn to be a dental technician. Why not? Sorry, but that was the sum and substance of my reasoning.

Two years later I graduated from the dental technician school and went searching for a job. Here too my father intervened and I landed a job as a "plaster man" (apprentice) with a small three man dental laboratory in Jamaica Plain Massachusetts making a whopping $55 a week. By 1966, I had progressed to a gold crown and bridge specialist and, with a cousin who had also gone to dental technician school, opened our own small part time dental laboratory. Yes, I was working two jobs. Did I mention that I did not enjoy my work? Did I also mention that I was more of a mechanic than an artist when it came to creating a gold crown?

In 1964, I joined the National Guard. The Vietnam War was raging and I was definitely going to be drafted. So with a short trip to the Commonwealth Armory in Boston, 5 miles from my home, I became a member of the 1st Battalion of the 101st Artillery (1/101).  Obligation: 6 years with drills weekly, one weekend a month and a two week summer camp. They assigned me to the Fire Direction Center in B Battery with a MOS (Military Occupational Specialty) of chart operator. An interesting choice since math was not one of my strong suits - but then that's the military.

A few months later I went to Fort Dix New Jersey for two months of basic training and then to Fort Devens Massachusetts for four months of on-the job-training where I actually learned the basics of fire direction. In six months I was back to work as a dental technician and attending Tuesday night and weekend drills.

It was on the weekend drills that I discovered that I did not like sleeping in a pup tent on the ground and took to sleeping in 2 1/2 ton trucks, which was frowned upon and not fun either. This is when I discovered that officers slept on cots in a real tent. Hence, when I young second lieutenant pitched myself and a friend on officer candidate school (OCS), I listened very closely. No more sleeping in trucks. Obligation: Weekly drills, one weekend a month and 2 two week of summer camps on either end of the program. Did I mention that I also had to attend my regular unit's weekly and monthly drills and two week summer camps?

Surprisingly, I did well in OCS and graduated Massachusetts Military Academy second in my class. Now it was 1966 and I was a assigned to the Headquarters Company of the 1/101 as a Liaison Officer (aka forward observer). In this role I was required to conduct cannon gunnery classes for the battalion's officer and fire direction center staff. Recall that school wasn't my thing and math wasn't my strong point. Fortunately, the Artillery and Missile School at Fort Sill Oklahoma supplied the training manuals and also, fortunately, the training I received at Fort Devens was good enough that, surprisingly, I was one step (although barely) ahead of my students.

Now something happened that would ultimately shape my career and the rest of my life despite the fact that I had no idea of it at the time. Background. Folks in the National Guard were citizen soldiers essentially serving out their time. What I later came to understand as "motivation to learn" was not high. So I developed a technique to get these soldiers to pay attention by giving them a simple problem that they should easily solve.  Actually, at the time, I was trying to embarrass them into paying attention. While my motive was flawed the technique worked, they learned and I became a pretty good cannon gunnery instructor. Later (i.e., 1980), the concept of "motivation to learn" became an integral part of teaching philosophy that I named Guided Discovery.

In 1967 I spent three months at the Basic Officer Artillery Course (BOAC) at the Artillery and Missile School in Fort Sill Oklahoma; a course for OCS (Federal and State), Reserve, ROTC and West Point graduates. This proved to be the second major turning point in my life. Two facts: I mastered enough trigonometry in a week to pass the survey class and graduated second in my BOAC class despite heavy competition. I came away form this experience with significantly increased self esteem. I would have come in first if I hadn't pointed out my cannon gunnery instructor's technical errors (oh well).

Side Note: I also spent a year as a tactical officer (aka commission drill sergeant) at the Massachusetts Military Academy (circa 1968) training new officer candidates (which, as you guessed, was in addition to my regular duties in the 1/101).

Back to the story.  Returning to Massachusetts in June of 1967, I made another decision that would be life changing, but again, who knew. I quit my full time job at the dental laboratory and sold my interest in our fledgling dental lab to my cousin. My plan was to take the summer off and then find something else to do (totally unspecified). I had a little money (plus the $750 I received for my half of the dental laboratory), a 1965 Corvette convertible (white with a black interior - very nice), access to our winter home in Newton and to my family's summer residence in Nantasket Beach.  It was going to be a fun summer.

Life was good. Not a care in the world (dumb) and plenty to do with lots of time on the beach. However, my father was concerned and constantly reminded me that I needed to find a job. Side Note: My dad was a pharmacist and up until 1967 had owned his on pharmacy in Roxbury Mass. He had an incredible work ethic and was concerned about my carefree attitude. This translated into him urging me to seek out a job, which was not high on my list. Late in August I promised to look for a job during the coming week.

Not wanting to disappoint my father I decided to at least apply for a job. But the question was what was I qualified to do and more importantly what did I want to do. Here's where the story gets a little crazy. My coworker, Mike Scanlan, at the dental laboratory had a brother, Kevin, who frequently stopped in to socialize. Mike worked as a collector for a consumer finance company and seemed to have a lot of freedom. So why not apply for this type of job? Best case, I would be able to report to my dad that I had sought work. Worst case, I might get hired.

So I searched the help wanted adds and made some calls. I got an appointment for an interview with Liberty Loan in Brockton, Massachusetts for 5:00 PM on Friday. The day of the appointment I got lost having never been to Brockton and was late. (I guess it would have helped to look at a map - which is one of the skills I taught as a Tactical Officer in OCS) As I ran down the corridor toward the loan company office I passed a man heading for the elevator. I announced to the clerk that I had an appointment with Mr. Freedman and learned it was he who I passed in the corridor, Oops. Running at top speed I reached Mr. Freedman as the elevator doors were closing. Reluctantly he returned to the office for my interview. This proved to be the one event that ultimately changed my life.

Returning to the beach house I reported to my dad that I had kept my promise and interviewed for a job; further disclosing that it was as a collector for a finance company. Four days later I called Mr. Freedman and was offered the job. Oh well, the summer was almost over. So I went to work.

I liked being a bill collector and found that I was good at it. So good that in one year I was offered a promotion to manage a small two person office in Westerly Rhode Island (about 90 minutes south of my home). I said OK and moved down to Westerly. The clerk there, Mary Delores Piccollo, was experienced and she continued my education as a lender - she actually knew almost everybody in town and her judgment was almost perfect. (In Westerly I met Jerry Swerdlick who holds the distinction of being my oldest friend in the world. I turned him down for a loan. He was a deadbeat. Today he owns his own company, EVAS, providing specially equipped computers to assist sight impaired people). A year later I was promoted and became manager of Liberty's Providence office.

Bobby Freedman. Several months after being hired, Bobby Freedman left Liberty and took a job as National Assistant Credit Manager at Mister Donut of America, a national franchiser of doughnut shops. We also became good friends and double dated on several occasions. Bobby called me in 1969 and announced that he was taking a job as the Finance and Insurance (F&I) Manager at a car dealership in Framingham Massachusetts and asked if I want to apply for his job at Mr. Donut. I said yes. This represented a significant increase in both responsibility and income and also brought me back to Massachusetts. I learned that Bobby had been recruited for the F&I Manager job by a company named Pat Ryan & Associates and that he had gone to their Chicago office for two weeks of training. Bobby went on to make lots of money as a F&I Manager and really enjoyed what he was doing. We continued to be good friends.

The job at Mr. Donut lasted a year and I still do not remember why I was terminated (as I was actually good at working with franchisees to resolve problems with delinquent franchise fees, rents and supply purchases). Oh well, time for another retirement and the timing was perfect; summer was coming. Did I mention that I now had a 1970 Corvette convertible (blue with a black interior) , This time I took three months off.

Summer was coming to an end and, according to my dad, it was time to go back to work. A call to Bobby Freedman resulted in an interview with Terry Asbury, the Regional Manager for Pat Ryan & Associates in the New England area. Terry thought I could do the job and placed me at Tom Connelly Pontiac in Norwood Massachusetts. In August of 1970, I attended Pat Ryan & Associates' two week training program in Chicago.

Explanatory Note: The position of F&I Manager in a car dealership was a relatively new in 1970. It was created by Pat Ryan, the son of a Wisconsin car dealer and Herman Bass, one of the earliest F&I Managers at a Buick dealership in Chicago. Pat Ryan founded Pat Ryan & Associates to sell credit insurance through car dealerships to consumers in conjunction the financing of automobiles. By 1970 the business has evolved to recruiting, placing, training and supervising F&I Managers who worked for the dealer, on the dealer's payroll, to sell Pat Ryan & Associates credit insurance product (which consisted of life insurance that would pay off the loan in the event of the debtor's death and disability insurance that would make the payments if the debtor became sick or disabled). It was a great marketing concept. PR&A, acting as a consultant, would recruit, train and supervise the F&I Manager at no cost to the dealer in exchange for the dealer selling Ryan's credit insurance product for which the dealer would receive 100% of the available commission. In addition, Ryan promised that the combination of their training and process would increase the dealer's profits by $100 for every vehicle sold. This was accomplished by consolidating, at the time, the arrangement of car loans, the sale of credit insurance and the sale of physical damage insurance in the hands of one person, the F&I Manager. Heretofore, these items were handled by car salespeople who often received the commissions rather than the dealer. Despite the financial incentive, salespeople were not effective with this end of the business.  Ryan called it the "100 Program" representing two concepts, 100% referral of all customer to the F&I Manager and the goal of $100 of extra profit for every vehicle sold. Ryan was very successful largely due the quality of the field representatives he hired for his company and the quality of the training that Herman Bass (later my mentor) had developed. $100 a car was big money in 1970. Today F&I Managers routinely earn in excess of $1,000 for every vehicle sold.

Training was a big deal at Pat Ryan & Associates. It was two weeks long, it was conducted 18 times a year and it was highly advanced using video taped role play with feedback. Ryan had three full time trainers on staff and they were the elite of the elite. To be a trainer you had to be both a highly successful F&I Manager with experience in multiple dealerships and a successful District Manager. No small task. District Managers sold the program to dealers, recruited their F&I Manager, kicked off the program at the dealership and then followed up to ensure the promised $100 per car. These guys were, to put in bluntly, "hell on wheels." There were three of them, four if you counted Herman Bass, their Director of Training.

Back to the story: Bill Fisher was my trainer and he was terrific. Two weeks later, Terry Asbury kicked off the program at Tom Connelly Pontiac and I was off and running. I loved being a F&I Manager and I was very good at it.

Gene Day. Gene was the general sales manager at Tom Connelly and he was very good it what he did owing to the fact that prior to Tom Connelly, he had been a District Manager for Pat Ryan & Associates. He was my direct supervisor and this was a good thing since he understood the program chapter and verse and was highly supportive. We made the program work very well at Tom Connelly and became good friends.

Nine months later, Gene made me a proposition that was impossible to refuse. Gene along with another former Pat Ryan & Associates' District Manager, Eric Johnson, had found a financial backer and were going into competition with Pat Ryan & Associates in New York and New Jersey. They wanted me to be the trainer (defacto Director of Training) for their new company, Transcapital Fiscal Systems, Inc. I said yes.

In April of 1971, I moved into the Shelton Towers Hotel in New York City and for two weeks working 18 hours a day, created a two week training program using my notes from Bill Fisher's class and my experience as the F&I Manager at Tom Connelly Pontiac (and my training development skills that I had learned in the National Guard). Then I started training F&I Managers.  In between classes I acted as a District Manager or as a traveling "heavy,"going into prospective clients and acting as the F&I Manager to prove that we could deliver the promised profits. I was having a ball. Gene Day also proved to be a mentor from the standpoint of helping me become sophisticated in the ways of the world (dress, wine, food, etc).

One year later, Transcapital found themselves in financial difficulty and I was let go. Growth, revenue and profits had fallen below expectations and the backer got cold feet. No problem, Spring was coming and I was planning another long vacation, perhaps as long as 6 months. All I needed was another Corvette.

Marvin Warranoff. "Why Worry Warren Will Wait" was the slogan of a credit jewelry store in Providence Rhode Island where my girl friend, Gracie (who later became my first wife), worked as a credit manager. She was well liked by the Warranoff's, Marvin and Marilyn, and we were invited to their home for dinner. After dinner, Marvin and I adjourned to his study for an after dinner drink. The conversation evolved to my work prospects and Marvin pressed me on what I was planning to do. I think he was looking out for my girl friend's interests, we had been dating off and on for several years, or thinking about me as a potential employee. After telling him that I was going to apply for a job as a trainer with Pat Ryan & Associates when the summer ended he proceeded to convince me that my value was greatest right now and not to blemish my resume with an unnecessary pause between jobs. In fact, he extracted a promise that I would call Joe Wilson (number 2 guy) at Pat Ryan & Associates that Monday and request an interview. This turned out to be VERY good advice, which I acted on. A week later, on Friday, I was in Chicago for a series of interviews with key personnel, including Herman Bass, Ryan's Director of Training.  Monday, they called and offered me a position as an F&I Trainer and a week later on April 1, 1972, I reported for the first day of what became a spectacular 38 year career.

Written by Les.